Because Scrapbooking Just Wasn't Doing it for Me Anymore

I found a new hobby. You know, because there's only so much Oprah and premium chocolate a stay-at-home mom can stand, and I had all this extra free time to fill.

I Hate Crafts

Actually I don't. I love crafts. Buddy and I have enjoyed doing crafts together since he's been old enough for closed-ended projects (stuff that's supposed to turn out a certain way). I've always looked at the adorable sewing and beading girly-girl kits in the craft shop and looked forward to sharing time like that with a daughter.

So, I don't hate crafts. What I don't enjoy is how "doing a craft" inevitably ends. Princess was voluntarily reading to me earlier, when she got tired and didn't want to work at it anymore. So she wandered around a bit and then asked for her stepping stone kit. Which involves mixing plaster and I should definitely have nixed when she bought it way back when she was receiving an allowance. But I didn't, and it's still here. I sighed inwardly, because if she was tired of reading, following a sheet of directions was not going to happen. Then I got the kit down.

Princess mixed up one bag of plaster without measuring, so it was a runny mess. Progress note: she did come in a get a measuring cup for the next try. Hence the whole learning by doing thing. However, after she got the plaster mixed up and let it sit for the 1-3 minutes as stated in the *directions,* she realized that she didn't have the plastic mat with shape templates you're supposed to pipe the plaster on top of (who THINKS of these monstrous kits any way? Someone paid to sit around and rub his hand together and say, "how can I distract children from crayons and paper against their mother's better judgment THIS time? A-HA! I've got it! Plaster and fake jewels! Mwa ha ha ha haaaaaa!"?).

Now, lest I seem cold and callous, let me assure you my desire is to swoop in and fix it all for her. And boy does she want me to. However:

1. I gently warned her, at the store, that this kit was over her head, would be difficult and frustrating, and would require my help which would not be available if I was getting yelled at all the time,
2. When she asked for it today, I gently warned her that the directions would be difficult to follow and she'd have to read them to get the project right, and
3. The VERY. FIRST. step in the directions is to lay the stuff out on top of the.....

PLASTIC MAT.

On top of that, she allowed her sisters to "help" (after telling them the box said they weren't old enough), so now added to the extensive clean-up is the plastery paint job the Cuddle Bear did on the picnic table bench. I will say she's handling it fairly age-appropriately with only mild whining and mother accusing. For now.

Nothing in a pink box that requires water to be mixed into it is every crossing my threshold again.
I am serious.

The Apple

...doesn't fall far from the tree.

(pun intended)

Birthday Number Four

Made to order Spider-Man cake:






+ Made to order (surprisingly not-that-hard) Super-CuddleBear cape:






= one excellent fourth birthday.



Happy birthday, Cuddle Bear.

Princess Turns Seven

Fairy Canopy, Fairy Favors, Fairy Treats:




Princess dresses as a Fairy with her Fairy Land cake:




Building homes for Fairies:




Great photo of the tutu I made for Princes. Bad, bad photo of me and Princess. Bad photo of the stocking hangers I have yet to take down. From 2008.




Great birthday party. And Family Fun Magazine really should probably be paying me for advertising by this point.

Now onto Post-birthday Come-down Day....

When Chickie Pops Attack

As some of you know, I have a problem. So put together the phrases "second grade," and "bake sale," and, well, you can probably guess what happened.

I tried to pass my psychosis to my son.

I poked around a while on the computer looking for bake sale ideas from other psychotic mothers (guess what- there are not as many of us as I thought), and came up with this from Bakerella:

















I figured we'd only have to make, oh, say, four thousand of them at fifty cents a piece to pay a few kids' ways to the end-of-the-year zoo trip. Buddy and I started in, and Josh walked in and said, "wow, fifty cents? When I worked at the hospital, we would have priced those at $2.50."

That's when it really sunk in. Fifty cents. These were going to cost fifty cents.

So I bought some marshmellows and started making Rice Krispie Treats.

Ok, so not exactly just Rice Krispie Treats. More like Rice Krispie Nests With Jelly Bean Eggs in Them. I can't quit cold turkey. It's too much to ask in this stage of my life.

But Buddy was pretty sold on the Chickie Pops by this time, so I couldn't back out entirely. So I did something different.

I had fun.

Usually, I get real cranked up about everything looking perfect and Josh ends up sending the children outside so I can say bad words without corrupting their small minds. But this time Buddy and I ended up laughing so hard we couldn't breathe about how monstrophic some of them turned out (you can't tell by the picture. You'll have to trust me on this one).

And it was totally worth it.

Plus, we have about 64,000 Rice Krispie Nests for sale. Fifty cents each.

No Contest

A semi-embarrassing fact about myself: I am veeeeeeery competitive. But only when there is no actual competition. An illustration:

This is my contribution to the Washington Elementary Spring Carnival cake walk.







Yes. I know the vast majority of moms are going to pick up a tray of brownies from Hardings, and that is normal.

Yes. I realize I just want attention.

Yes. I have tried to convince Josh that my obsessive behavior is cute. And no, he was not convinceable.

But see, here's the thing. Here are the things that are not going to be said to me about this cake:
-ugly
-stupid
-yucky blucky
-IEP
-neurological damage
-PTSD
-RAD
-ADD


And THAT, my friends, will be blissful.

Cutie Valentine Patooties

Thank-you Family Fun Magazine. Way to make a mommy look far cooler and craftier than she actually is.



(Did you notice the Cuddle Bear is deep in the "Three-Year-Old Grimace-Smile Phase? I did.)